“Not anymore.”
“Sure you are! Say, remember the song that all the squires-in-training have to sing to each new knight after they're inducted?”
Sir William frowned. “That song won't make me feel any better.”
“Sure it will!” Randall put his hand over his heart and began to sing.
We all love William, our new knight.
His presence fills our souls with light.
William makes us shout with glee.
He is the best knight for me.
Randall began miming the trumpet riff, then continued.
He is up high, while we are down low.
He is the one we all cheer and praise.
All of us swoon when we meet his gaze.
Randall began miming the ukulele riff, then continued.
When he showers, we're just the soot.
Oh, how we stink in comparison to his might.
Next to William, we all really bite.
Randall performed the refrain. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeaaaaaaah!!!” Sir William was beginning to grow teary-eyed.
We're just the coarse hairs in his facial mole.
We're just the backwash in his bottle of wine.
We're just the milk that sprays out of his nose when the jester says a particularly funny line.
Randall repeated the verse six more times.
I mean, really, we're nothing but feeble-brained dweebs with severe body odor and we might as well make a living cleaning sewers for all the good we do and I think we all should go drown ourselves in a boiling vat of tar.
If William was a box of chocolates, we'd be the gross ones with orange gook in the center.
Forget it, we're not even good enough to finish up this song, let's just crawl into the ground and mulch and to heck with making this last line rhyme.
Randall started the refrain once again, but Sir William held up his hand, silencing him. “Enough! You've convinced me! Let's resurrect the princess, get her to the kingdom of Rainey, then go home and humiliate some squires!”
* * * *
BY WEAVING a more-or-less straight path through the thick trees, they were able to locate the graveyard. An immense, rusty fence surrounded the entire cemetery, and a series of three signs depicted a stick figure touching the fence, a pile of ashes next to the fence, and a kiriki licking up the ashes.
“We won't be able to get over it,” said Sir William, surveying the area. “I guess we'll have to go through there.” He pointed to a small, rickety wooden shack that was leaning against one part of the fence.
“Could that be the Realm of Mystery?” Randall asked.
“I haven't a clue.”
They walked over to the shack. The door, hanging on one hinge and slightly ajar, had the words “Realm of Mystery” scribbled across it.
“Not very impressive, is it?” Randall commented.
“Well, hello there, you two!” came a familiar voice from behind them.
They turned around, and Lawrence stepped out of the forest. He was holding the sack with the remains of Princess Janice. “I don't suppose either of you would care to purchase a partially-cremated corpse, would you?”
“You found the princess!” Sir William shouted. “I can't believe it!”
Lawrence hid the bag behind his back. “So, she's worth something to you, then?”
Sir William took a deep breath. “What do you want?”
“Well ... I could certainly use a Smith Model KL7-RA Prosthetic Locomotion Assistance Device.”
“You bovine!”
“Yep, that sounds good. A nice artificial leg for this bag of royalty. I'll just hang around until you find one.”
Sir William started to rush forward, but Randall threw out his arm in an attempt to restrain him. “We have some money,” he said. “Fifteen dvorkins, I think. Give us the princess, and they're yours.”
“Sixteen, and we have a deal.”
“We don't have sixteen.”
“Okay, fifteen and a leg.”
Sir William spoke up. “You don't seem to realize just how dead I can make a man.”
“Okay, fifteen dvorkins and your clothes.”
“You pervert!”
“Oh, wait, I didn't stop to consider that my last offer involved nudity on your part. Listen, if you want the bag, you have to find the leg.”
“Do you know how hard it was for us just to find this graveyard?”
“If you tried to follow the landmarks on my map through a morphing forest, pretty darn hard. Now go get the leg.”
* * * *
RANDALL MANAGED to successfully block most of the next seven hours from his mind.
* * * *
“HERE'S THE leg,” snarled Sir William, thrusting the appendage at Lawrence, who was casually leaning against the Realm of Mystery.
“You scratched it up,” said Lawrence, examining it.
“I swear,” said Sir William, “if you don't hand over that bag you're going to be floating down a long tunnel toward a white light.”
“Give me the dvorkins first.”
Sir William and Randall fished through their pockets and handed over all their coins.
“This is only fourteen.”
“I said I thought we had fifteen,” said Randall. “I didn't say for sure.”
“The deal was for fifteen. Fifteen dvorkins or I leave with the princess.”
“And just what are you going to do with her?” Sir William asked.
“Sell her to someone else.”
“You sick, twisted—”
“Okay, okay, I'll make you an offer. The leg, the fourteen dvorkins, and your clothes—but you get to keep the loincloths and shoes. Take it or leave it.”
A couple minutes later, Lawrence had left with his prizes. Sir William and Randall stood in their undergarments, glaring in the direction he had gone. Sir William picked up the sack.
“Let's go,” he said, throwing open the door to the Realm of Mystery.
Chapter 6
The Realm of Mystery
(Alternate But Meaningless Title: “The Potato')
AS HE STEPPED through the threshold, Randall was surrounded by a bright yellowish-periwinkle light. The air felt like it had transformed into a thick liquid, and there was a loud sucking sound as he passed through, reminding
